


Warming the Snowman

by WindChimeGhost



Category: Disney - All Media Types, Santa Clause (Movies), The Santa Clause 3: The Escape Clause
Genre: Alternate Ending, Christmas, Disciplinary Spanking, Gen, Holiday, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Sexual Spanking, Over the Knee, Parental Spanking, Spanking, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, spank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 18:56:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5509337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindChimeGhost/pseuds/WindChimeGhost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack Frost almost ruins Christmas. Santa Claus has had enough.</p><p> </p><p>~ Alternate ending for The Santa Clause 3 ~ Contains spoilers for anyone who hasn’t seen the movie.</p><p>Contains parental discipline/corporal punishment/spanking. Don’t like, Don’t read.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warming the Snowman

**Author's Note:**

> ~ Critique not desired ~
> 
> **~ This fanfic contains parental discipline/corporal punishment (spanking). If you don't like, don't read/comment. ~**
> 
> **I understand that some people get offended or disturbed over the subject of spanking. If you're one of these, then please do not read this fanfic. You have been properly warned ahead of time. If you proceed to read my fanfic anyway and then post your opinions/logic in a comment, it will be ignored and deleted. This fanfic is fictitious and was written purely for fun. I did not post it on here to start debates or to be lectured. We all have our own opinions. So please show some respect when commenting.**
> 
> I hadn’t planned on my only Christmas fic for this year being a spanking one (apologies to my readers who may not like this sort of thing). I had a non-spanking fic I wanted to write, but due to time I only managed to get this one done. And the only reason this one was done first is because I wrote it for a Christmas event I signed up for on LiveJournal. I’ve been meaning to write a fanfic like this for Jack Frost for years anyway (because he needs one bad), so things just sort of fell into place.
> 
> And this fic WILL contain spoilers for anyone who hasn’t seen the third Santa Clause movie. Just to warn ahead of time.
> 
>  
> 
> The Santa Clause and all related characters © Disney
> 
> Fanfic and plot ©2015 by me (please do not take, use, or edit without my permission)

After addressing Mother Nature, Santa Claus (aka Scott Calvin) turned and walked slowly toward the two frozen statues that used to be Neil and his ex-wife, Laura. Again, he tapped at one of the faces blankly staring at him. With the coating of white frosty ice, it was hard to believe they had been two living people hours earlier. They looked more like carved Greek or Roman statues that belonged in some art museum, only not as refined. It was taking awhile for his mind to fully process what he was looking at, and it showed. He was well aware how quiet the room had become since Curtis, the Arch-elf, brought the incident to his attention. He was also aware of the many stares directed at him as everyone patiently waited to see what he would do next.

Finally, Santa turned and forced himself to, again, look at the perpetrator responsible for this horrible crime. Jack Frost stood directly across from him, smugly smiling and beaming with arrogant pride over what he had done. He made a few more adjustments to his coat and lightly ran a hand over the spikes of his frozen hair, giving the illusion that he was smoothing it back in order to look cool. Jack was the epitome of a fox in the henhouse, Scott noted. And he was the one who let that fox in. From the moment he gave in and took Jack on as a helper, he knew deep down it was a bad idea. In fact, he had been against it at first. Now he wished more than ever that he had said ‘no’ and let Mother Nature and Father Time do whatever they wanted with the frosty troublemaker. No more would he allow stress to mottle his decisions. And no more would he listen to and give in to Frost’s smooth tongue. He had warned the trickster that if he messed things up, he would be out. Scott had known all along that Frost would probably break his word at some point, so he had been partially prepared mentally for whatever disaster would ensue. It was part of any trickster’s nature, after all. Although, he admitted he never expected him to go this far. Judging from the expressions on the other Legendary Figures’ faces, apparently, no one had expected it. 

It was bad enough that Jack Frost came close to completely destroying the workshop and all of the hard work the elves were doing and made it look like Santa was a failure at his job. The damages he inflicted on everything set the work back quite a bit. Even with the extra help from his son, Charlie, and the Legendary Figures, Scott still wasn’t sure if all the toys would be done in time for delivery that night. It was something he didn’t want to think about, but he still wanted to remain slightly realistic about the situation. At this point, everyone available would have to work all hours, without breaks until the time came for him to leave and deliver, and even then they’d probably make it by the skin of their teeth. 

And it was also bad enough that Frost had almost permanently changed history and the way the world viewed Santa Claus. Scott was moments away from becoming the first Santa to strangle someone as he stood and stared at the frosty man before him. He could not believe that Jack succeeded in stealing and giving him his own personal snow globe and tricking him into resigning his position as Santa. While Scott was grateful that the experience helped to make him a lot more thankful for his current life and job and the people in it, it still made him mad to think that Frost had actually stooped that low to get what he wanted. It also opened his eyes to see how dangerous and untrusting the winter trickster could be.

But freezing Neil and Laura in ice and locking them along with their daughter, Lucy, in a storage closet was the straw that broke the camel’s back for him. That was the lowest of the low in his books. Trying to change history was one thing, but inflicting physical harm on people, particularly his family, was a whole different matter.

“You’re really not going to unfreeze them?” Santa finally asked, his voice as calm as he could muster.

“No,” Frost replied, still grinning. “Like I said, I can only do it if I unfreeze myself, and I will never, ever do that.”

Scott wanted to say something else, but he fought to keep himself in check, if not for anything else but so he wouldn’t have to make a scene in front of the others. He knew what he felt like saying should never come out of Santa’s mouth. So instead, his anger made itself known in other ways. His face felt hot and he knew it was probably beet red, and it wasn’t from his ‘rosy cheeks’ as is described in the poem.

Rosy cheeks… Hm… Scott’s mind worked for a few minutes, and then he gave a quick nod to no one in particular, finally making up his mind about something.

Taking one final glance at the crowd around him, Santa crooked a finger and silently motioned for Frost to follow him. The trickster complied, more out of curiosity than anything. He continued to grin as he was ushered out of the workshop, finger waving at an elf as he passed by. She looked less than impressed, wrinkled her nose in disgust and turned her attention back to her work.

“So where exactly are we going?” Frost eagerly asked when they were out of ear-shot of the others. He followed along beside Scott as they walked down the hallway.

“You’ll see,” Scott quickly answered, fearing he would blow up and say something he’d regret. Frost nodded at the reply.

“Just curious, but how are you going to unfreeze the parents?” Frost playfully asked as he struggled to keep up with the man in red. His voice was tinged with mirth and it pushed on Scott’s buttons. He refused to answer the question until he stopped outside of the living room. Here he turned to Frost, gave a slight smile, and pushed open the doors.

“Oh, I’m not going to unfreeze them.” He motioned for Jack to enter first. “ _You_ are.”

Jack shook his head, slyly grinning and stepping into the room. The fallen Christmas tree they had been busy decorating minutes earlier still lay in a disheveled heap on the floor, pieces of broken ornaments and topper littering the surrounding area.

“I don’t think you understand. I told you that I’m not—”

“Yes, you are,” Santa said sternly, cutting Frost off. He closed the doors behind them and walked around to face Frost, trying to ignore the tree.

Jack Frost studied Santa a few moments, arching an eyebrow. He looked behind him at the doors and then back at Santa. He took a few steps forward, steepling his fingers.

“You should really do something with those elfficers out there. They’re brutal. They hurt my arms when they dragged me in here,” Jack Frost complained, changing the subject. “And they nearly wrinkled my coat, too.”

“A shame,” said Santa, forcing a fake smile. He knew Jack was lying and trying to manipulate him, so he tried not to let it push his already rising temper even further. He stood, unmoving, in the middle of the room and continued to stare Frost down, not allowing the other to get the upper hand. He still couldn’t get over the amount of arrogant gall this man had. Here he wreaked havoc and froze two people and he still acted like the whole thing was a harmless game.

“WHAT were you thinking, Jack?” Scott’s restrained temper finally broke forth as he attempted to pull the conversation back to the matter at hand.

“Excuse me?” Frost innocently replied. “I’m not sure that I understand what you mean.”

“You know darn well what I mean. Don’t play dumb with me.”

“No need to lose your temper.” Frost winced, motioning for Santa to lower his voice. “We can talk this over like civilized gentlemen—over a cup of cocoa, maybe?”

“No need to lose my temper?” Santa continued to shout, pointing toward the doors. “You nearly destroyed my factory, tricked me out of being Santa, and froze two people and, might I add, refuse to unfreeze them and you tell me not to lose my temper? What is wrong with you? Christmas was almost ruined because of you, and you nearly killed innocent people—MY family. Don’t you have any shred of guilt or regret at all?”

“Hmmm, let me check.” Frost scrunched his face up in thought for a few seconds. “No. Although, I _do_ regret that my plan failed so easily. I’m going to have to work on that a bit more.”

“I see it all now,” said Santa, ignoring Frost’s retort. “Everything that’s been happening around here…that was _your_ doing, wasn’t it? The machinery in the workshop malfunctioning. The accidents in the kitchen. The Christmas tree falling over and Carol’s favorite tree topper getting destroyed…” Scott waved a hand toward the tree. “Everything was connected with _you_ trying to take my place as Santa.”

“Bravo, Santa. You finally figured it out,” said Jack, clapping. He almost squealed in glee.

“Don’t think for a minute that I’m stupid, Jack. I figured it out the moment you gave me the snow globe and we went back in time. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. The part that scares me is that it took me so long to put two and two together. I should have known all along that _you_ were behind everything because it’s highly unusual that we have that many accidents in one day.”

Frost shrugged and smiled, still basking in self-satisfaction. “It’s understandable why it took you so long. You’ve been under a lot of pressure and stress lately, after all.”

“Stop it, Jack,” Santa snapped. “Just stop it!”

Frost looked stunned, his icy eyebrows shooting upward and his smile disappearing.

“You were supposed to be on community service,” Santa continued. “I showed you a small amount of mercy and trusted you enough to allow you to work for me to keep you from getting kicked out. But you broke that trust. Somehow I knew you would, but that’s beside the point. Now it all makes sense. It was never about community service, was it? It was just a golden opportunity for you to edge your way in and take over being Santa Claus. That was your plan all along, wasn’t it?”

“Bingo!” Frost laughed. “It was a brilliant plan too if I do say so myself. At least, it was until you ruined it.”

Both men stared at each other in silence.

“Either you unfreeze them, or so help me…” Scott calmly whispered, making a fist at Frost.

“What?” Frost grinned. “Is Santa really going to result to violence?” He shook his head sadly, tsking.

Scott pointed a finger at him. “Oh, believe me; I’m _very_ tempted. Consider yourself lucky that I don’t like the thought of the kids going through Christmas with Santa in jail.”

Jack Frost grinned deviously as he stared directly into Santa’s eyes, a twinkle of malice lighting up his own eyes.

“The kids won’t be disappointed, if that’s what you’re worried about. Go ahead and beat me up. I’ll be sure to scream very loud so everyone hears.” Frost taunted with a sneer. “I’ll play the part of the helpless victim, and you being thrown in the slammer will give me the perfect opportunity to take your place as Santa.”

Scott shook his head, emitting a slight chuckle. “It _would_ be a perfect advantage for you, wouldn’t it? Sorry, Jack, I know how you work now, and I’m not about to throw that type of opportunity in your lap. Not that it matters much. You’d never get away with it anyway. Everyone already knows that you froze Neil and Laura, Lucy can testify to that very easily. If anything, we’d end up being cellmates, and that thought makes me want to throw up more than you turning the North Pole into a commercial money-grubbing theme park.”

Frost shrugged it off. “I’ll make up some kind of sob story to cover that over.”

“I bet you will.” Scott sneered. “By the way, you _do_ know you’re on the naughty list, right?” Santa suddenly flicked his wrist and a piece of old paper magically appeared and unrolled with a small explosion of sparkly gold dust. At the top were the words ‘Naughty List’ printed in black ink. The rest of the paper was blank, except for one name scrawled out in red in the middle: Jack Frost. “You’ve been on there for quite a long time, in fact. You were on there even before _I_ became Santa. I found this last year while going through all of the naughty list regulars. You’re so naughty that you have a whole piece of paper all to yourself. Apparently whoever was Santa when this was printed up was afraid to put your name in with the others, because he didn’t want you to rub off on the naughty children who still have hope of redeeming themselves.”

Santa knew he finally struck a nerve with the frost king. Despite the calm and straight face Frost was struggling to maintain, he still looked like he was seconds away from exploding in a fit of bad temper. Eventually, Frost relaxed and gave a slight shrug as if it didn’t really bother him, even though it was clear that it did.

“So?” he snorted, his voice wavering slightly. “It’s like I told Lucy. Naughty List people have more fun.”

“Until they get caught.” Santa raised his eyebrows and gave Frost a piercing stare that succeeded in making him feel uncomfortable. For a split second, worry—or was it fear?—washed over the trickster’s face. Jack visibly jumped and took a step back when Santa flicked his wrist again and the piece of paper disappeared in a poof of more gold magic sparkles.

“C-caught?” Jack Frost repeated, swallowing.

“You know, Jack, I normally give coal to the people on my naughty list, but I’ve got a special present for you.”

Frost watched as Santa walked over to the couch and seated himself there. He motioned for Jack to come to him. Jack hesitated at first, refusing to obey. He wasn’t sure why. For all he knew, Santa could be motioning for him to take a seat beside him. Despite that thought, though, he was still nervous as to what Santa had in mind. What was this ‘present’ he spoke of? From the conversation they just had, he already guessed that ‘present’ meant ‘punishment’, and there were only so many methods of punishment. He continued to study Santa with a wary eye, noting his position. His face suddenly hardened into an expression that displayed both fear and shock, his eyes widening. Surely Santa didn’t mean to… He swallowed and forced the thought out of his mind. Surely he wouldn’t do that. Not to him.

“Jack,” The sound of Santa’s voice brought Jack out of his trance, “here, now.”

Finally, Jack made it to the couch and stood in front of Santa, his hands working nervously as he eyed the bearded man.

“Wh-what are you going to do?” Jack asked.

Scott said nothing as he reached out and grabbed hold of Frost’s arm and quickly jerked him over his lap. The action nearly knocked the wind out of Jack and momentarily confused and stunned him. He definitely had not been prepared for something like that!

“What is this outrage? What are you doing?” Jack bellowed when he finally gathered his senses. “How dare you handle me so roughly! Unhand me!” He kicked and struggled to right himself, seesawing on the legs under him. He refused to show it, but fear was fast taking him over. Apparently, Santa _was_ going to do to him what he was thinking. This was embarrassing. He struggled that much harder, nearly falling off Santa’s lap.

Scott was prepared for the struggle since he had already gone through the ordeal of trying to restrain Frost when he was setting things right. He grabbed hold of Jack’s flailing arms and forced them behind the trickster’s back and fought to keep him pinned down.

“Believe me; this is for your own good, Jack. You have no one to blame but yourself.”

When Jack finally showed signs of tiring, Scott pushed the trickster’s upper body down, tipping him over so that his rear was high in the air. Jack was about to spout out something vile when he felt a sharp swat land across the seat of his pants. He gasped at the sting it left in its wake, and his eyes grew wide when he fully grasped what was happening to him. He winced as another stinging swat was applied directly on top of the last, and then another after that.

“Y-you can’t do this to me! You can’t be serious!” he shouted, struggling harder against Santa’s grip and trying his best to work his arms loose. He let out a nervous laugh, thinking the whole thing had to be a twisted joke, but his laughter quickly subsided when another firm swat came down. A knot of fear coiled around in his stomach when it looked like Santa wasn’t going to let up anytime soon.

“I’ve never been more serious in my life, Jack,” Santa calmly replied, not bothering to look at Jack and bringing his hand down again in a rapid series of swats in the same spot, the silver chains on Jack’s pants jingling loudly with each impact. There was no hint of mirth or joking at all in his facial features as he continued to pummel Jack’s rear. “You’ve been a naughty boy for far too long.”

“OW!!” Jack hollered, bucking his legs. Despite his pants still being in place, the burning, stinging pain of the spanking was beginning to build up in his cheeks and was quickly becoming very uncomfortable. He finally yanked an arm loose and threw the free hand behind him to shield his rear from the blows. Scott briefly paused, calmly grabbing up the rogue hand and again pinning them both to the small of Jack’s back. Frost jerked around and beat the couch with his feet in protest. “Noooooooo!”

“Hold still!” Scott snapped, slapping Jack’s left rear cheek several times in quick succession.

“OUCH! THIS IS NOT FAIR!” Jack wailed out after Santa administered another series of hard, stinging swats to his right cheek, some of the frost on his clothes coming off with each slap.

“What’s not fair?” Scott asked, not letting up on the spanking, but continuing to bring his hand down in fast, even swats. “Please, explain. Because, the way I see it, you’re getting well-deserved consequences that match your actions. If you ask me, this is long overdue.”

“Yow! Ouch! Owwwwwww!” Jack grunted and screeched, kicking again in hopes of hitting Santa’s hand. “Stoppit! I didn’t do anything to deserve this! Thi-this is a child’s punishment!”

Scott brought his hand down extra hard on the underside of Jack’s butt and the backs of his thighs, the trickster arching his back and emitting a louder scream to match it.

“You didn’t do anything to deserve it?” Santa repeated, smacking him again in the same spot. “I thought we already talked about this. You damaged my workshop and my kitchen.” Another smack landed and Jack hollered. “You tricked me and turned the North Pole into a commercial racket.” Another stinging smack landed where the pain from the last one was just beginning to sink in.

“Owwwwwwww…” Jack groaned.

“You act like a spoiled delinquent child!” He brought down another hard smack that earned an even louder scream from Jack. “You get treated like one!”

Jack sobbed miserably as the heat and pain built up to a greater level in his now throbbing backside. He kicked his feet again but with much less vigor this time. He felt utterly humiliated at the event that was transpiring, although he wasn’t sure which was the most embarrassing: that he was being spanked by Santa Claus or that he was bawling like a baby over it. His face flushed red, partly from the embarrassment and partly from the tears that continued to come out of his eyes and streak paths down his cheeks. He choked out another sob as Santa once again brought his powerful hand down on the underside of his rear.

“YOW!!!” Frost screamed out. “You’ll never get away with this, Fatty! I’ll make sure Mother Nature and Father Time know about this…this barbaric action!” he spat out, succeeding in heaving his upper body up enough to lay his head on the couch.

“Go ahead and tell them, then. I’m pretty sure the whole Counsel of Legendary Figures will find great amusement in hearing how I tanned your sorry, frosted butt. I’m certain that most if not all of them would enjoy it so much they would applaud. And I can just hear Cupid or Easter Bunny asking me if I videotaped it.”

Jack’s face flushed a deeper shade of red at those words, and he decided to keep quiet.

“Uh-huh, I thought so.”

Santa stopped spanking long enough to readjust Jack over his lap where he was more comfortable, as well as to get a better grip on the trickster for the remainder of the spanking, seeing that Jack’s struggling had jarred his hold loose. As he did this, Scott flapped the sting from his hand. It would smart for awhile afterward, but it would be worth it, he thought.

Jack, on the other hand, used this brief pause to gather his senses together. Something told him that this spanking was far from being over, so he was going to make one last attempt at breaking free of it while he still had some dignity to speak of. Once his hitched breathing had calmed somewhat, his pale face turned a bright shade of blue and a chilly vapor seeped through his lips as he struggled to turn his head around toward Scott. He hadn’t planned on frosting Santa, but he didn’t have much choice. The man was insane!

“I don’t think so, Jack,” Santa sternly said, catching a glimpse of what Jack was about to do. He quickly grabbed hold of and yanked Jack’s pants down and administered a hard smack to the trickster’s reddened, bared posterior. The force and sting of Santa’s palm coming in contact with his bare flesh derailed Jack’s train of thought and knocked the blue right out of his face, leaving him to scream out in agony instead. The remnants of his exhaled breath left a white frosty trail along the couch cushion. It took a few seconds for him to recover and realize what had happened. After the pain of the smack swelled over his entire bottom, Jack finally came back to agonizing reality. Only then did it hit him that Santa had actually pulled his trousers down! He couldn’t believe it!

“Are you crazy?” Jack shrieked, blushing and twisting in Santa’s new grip on him.

“Maybe,” said Santa as he gave a nod. He turned his attention back to spanking Jack’s bared butt. “I’ve had enough of you freezing people.” Santa laid down a series of extra hard swats on the underside of Jack’s bottom, reigniting the burning pain that was already there. The trickster cried out in pain and kicked his legs.

“Ahhhh! STOP! Please!” Frost wailed.

“Are you sorry?”

“YES!” Frost screamed out after another painful swat took a searing bite out of his underside.

“I’m very doubtful of it,” Santa snapped, tilting jack forward and laying down more burning swats on the trickster’s heated rear as fast and hard as he could without permanently hurting him.

“YOWCH!! Ow, ow!” Jack screamed out, desperately twisting his arms around to get them loose and digging his foot into the couch to push himself forward, out of Santa’s hold. “I said I was sorry! An-and I mean it!”

“Are you sorry for freezing Neil and Laura?”

Jack couldn’t get the words out through his sobs and hitched breathing, so he nodded his head vigorously instead. What scared him the most is that he actually did mean it. He _was_ sorry. He never meant to hurt anyone. His jealousy and greed had clouded his thinking, he realized that now.

Santa stopped and studied the trickster lying sprawled across his lap. Jack continued to breathe in heavy bursts, choking on sobs that still bubbled up in his throat.

“I-I never meant to hurt anyone…” he said weakly, sniffling and slowly turning to look up at Scott. Fresh tears poured down his cheeks, some of them freezing halfway down. His nose was running and his eyes looked red and swollen. “I jus-sss-just wanted to be recognized. That’s all. Isss tha-that too much to ask?” He sniffed.

Santa remained silent as he stared down at Jack’s shuddering form. He really did feel sorry for him. Despite what Jack did, he knew that everyone deserved a second chance…and sometimes maybe a third. Jack Frost had blown his second chance, but Scott could still feel there was good somewhere inside him. Being a trickster didn’t make Jack bad. Jack allowing jealousy and greed to consume him did. And Santa felt partly guilty for that. Perhaps all of them needed to start giving Jack a little more love and attention. Even though his only job was heralding a season, he was still as important as the rest of them. When he thought about it, Tooth Fairy’s only job was collecting teeth and replacing them with money. It really wasn’t fair that he got more publicity than Jack. And as Legendary Figures go, Jack was also part of their odd, and sometimes dysfunctional, little family, regardless if they could stand to be around him or not.

“I’m sorry, Jack,” Santa finally said, patting the trickster’s back. Jack looked up at Santa, a bit surprised. “I’m sorry that we’ve failed in taking you seriously and giving you respect. You…you _do_ deserve better. In fact, after this, I’m going to see to it personally that you get the recognition and love you rightly deserve.”

“Y-you mean it?” Jack sniffled.

“Yes, I do.” Santa nodded, his eyes twinkling. “It’s true that you won’t ever have your own holiday, but I’ll make sure that more people know of you and remember you. You’re important, Jack, don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise. You are just as important as any of us are, maybe even more so. And so is your job. It’s so much more than runny noses and dead fruit. For one thing, you make the world a beautiful place in the autumn and winter months with your colorful leaves and frost and snow. The rest of us can’t do that, but you can. That makes you special and one-of-a-kind. For some people, the Christmas season just wouldn’t be the same without everything covered in a blanket of white. If you ask me, you contribute more to the season than I do. There’s nothing like waking up Christmas morning and seeing that beautiful sparkling snow covering the ground, and frosted windowpanes. A lot of people enjoy your work; they just don’t know it. Without you, there’d be no ice-skating, skiing, sledding, snowball fights, snowmen, and no horse-drawn sleigh rides. And folks wouldn’t be able to stay out in the cold all day and enjoy the feeling of coming inside the house, pulling up to a warm fire, and sipping on mugs of hot cocoa.

“I promise that the whole world will know of your importance. Just remember that you don’t have to have your own holiday to be important. You’re important just as you are. Christmas isn’t about how much publicity and fame you get anyway; it’s about love and giving to others with no thought of anything in return. You and I both do that in our own special ways, so in a sense, we kinda work together, huh? And if you ever feel like you aren’t doing enough or getting enough love, then…well…maybe you need to find new ways to brighten up your season a bit. Do something so amazing that people will remember you.”

Jack wasn’t sure what to say when Santa finished. No one had ever spoken to him like that before. It felt good. For once, he cracked a genuine smile that wasn’t full of deceit, and several tears of happiness crept out of his eyes to join the rest.

“And I’ll forgive you for everything you’ve done if you promise me you’ll never act naughty again, and actually use your talents for good.”

“I promise!” Jack replied.

“Alright,” Santa said, with a hint of warning in his voice. He reached and carefully pulled Jack’s pants back up and let go, allowing the trickster to stand. Jack quickly looked toward the doors as if he expected a crowd to be watching them through the colored, clouded glass windows. To his relief, no one was there. He relaxed, sighed, and began to reclaim some of his composure. He wiped at his eyes, sniffed, and moved his free hand behind him to rub at his burning backside. He winced as he gently ran a hand over his sore cheeks.

Santa stood and patted Jack on the back, squeezing his shoulder.

“Take all the time you need before you go back out there,” he softly said.

Jack nodded, turning his head to look at the dancing flames in the fireplace, refusing to look Santa in the face. He heard Scott walk toward the doors, but he just couldn’t bring himself to look at the man.

“Jack?” Santa’s soft voice came to his ears. Jack forced himself to look in Santa’s direction. “You want to help me deliver toys tonight?”

Jack blinked, tears still running down his cheeks, thinking he had heard him wrong. He silently pointed a finger at himself, as if Santa had been addressing someone else other than him.

Scott nodded. “Yes, I want you to help me tonight. If you think you can sit in the seat of the sleigh.”

Jack winced at hearing that last part. “I’d be honored, sir,” he hoarsely said.

“Good,” Santa said as he flashed a loving smile. “Who knows? You could end up being recognized as Santa’s partner.” At that, Scott turned and walked out the doors and disappeared.

Should be fun, Jack thought. Maybe he could find a big fluffy pillow somewhere. Santa’s partner? That actually didn’t sound bad.

 

When Jack Frost pulled himself together and washed up, he stiffly and painfully walked down the hallway and came out into the workshop. He glanced around at all of the faces that suddenly turned toward him, feeling uncomfortable and a bit awkward for being the center of everyone’s attention. He turned his gaze to Santa standing on his right, and then turned his eyes down to Lucy. The little girl was smiling up at him, which made him that much more uncomfortable. Not knowing what else to do, he forced himself to smile back. She kept walking toward him, eventually stopping in front of him. Okay, more awkward, he thought. He nervously glanced at Santa again.

“You need to unfreeze the parents, Jack,” Santa whispered.

“I-I…”

Before Jack realized what was happening, Lucy threw her arms around him and gave him a big, long hug. He cringed and cried out, not liking the feeling at first. But, as she held onto him, his icy exterior beginning to crack and melt, he had to admit that a hug felt pretty good. After all of this time, he finally felt loved and accepted. It dawned on him that this was _his_ family too. He suddenly hated himself for almost destroying it. As much as it pained him to admit it, he was actually glad Santa had… _knocked_ …some sense into him, so to speak. He had acted rotten and deserved that spanking.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he felt his cold heart turn warm inside his chest from Lucy’s hug, and he peered across the room at Neil and Laura’s icy forms melting into actual human beings again. He felt all warm and toasty inside and he grinned an honest grin at that.

They said it could never be done, but here it was happening.

The snowman finally thawing out from a warm hug…and…a warmed bottom.

 

-End

Merry Christmas


End file.
